


carry that weight (of living again)

by petalgrown



Category: Naruto
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Coming of Age, Culture, F/M, Families of Choice, Fix-It of Sorts, Fuuinjutsu, Gen, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Canon, Rating May Change, Reincarnation, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert, Slow Burn, Team as Family, Trans Character, Unconventional Families, Worldbuilding, in a very bad environment for it, kind of, oc isn't an uzumaki but is uzushio related, sometimes orphans adopt other orphans and that's fine, sort of you'll see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:21:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24657514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petalgrown/pseuds/petalgrown
Summary: In which reincarnation is not an easy thing to swallow when learning that you must fight and willingly die for a place you don't necessarily care for. After all, Kai belongs to the sea and the storms rather than the land of fire and towering trees. This may or may not cause conflict down the line; if he finds himself living long enough, that is.
Relationships: Uchiha Shisui & Original Male Character(s), Uchiha Shisui/Original Male Character(s), Uzumaki Kushina & Original Character(s)
Comments: 39
Kudos: 197
Collections: A Collection of Beloved Inserts





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think naruto is very neat in concept, so i am taking the reigns now!!! also i wanted to play around with an uzushio oc that isn't an uzumaki and also a self-insert that doesn't know anything about the canon material they've found themselves in. the implications of the naruto universe and konoha in general aren't that great, so we're going into depth with them here. 
> 
> please enjoy!!!

. .

Tsugumi Kairyuu is born during Konoha's monsoon season near what would later be considered as the tail end of the Second Shinobi War. His mother dies soon after childbirth, this he pieces together while trying to steadily wrap his head around the whole rebirth and baby thing. It isn't as though he remembers much about his past life during the first couple of years, not with a baby brain in the midst of development. But he’s definitely more aware than a normal baby probably should be, and the cost of this is occasional headaches that lead to long and frequent naps. His new dad easily picks up on his very attentive child and takes it in stride and with pride that ends in a lot of cooing and cheek kisses.

Kai spends a lot of his waking moments being toted around and spoken to as a result, but he figures that’s how you’re supposed to deal with babies anyway. His dad tells him lots of stories about his mom, a woman named Koharu that was always a bit sickly and weaker than most others but was sharp as a whip and had an eye for tactics that were only contested by the Nara Clan. (Not that Kai knows who the Nara are at that point, but he figures that it must be a high sort of praise to be compared to them. Clans, he learns, are very prestigious.)

Apparently, it was not her sickly nature that led to her premature death, but an injury she sustained during the war she participated in even though Konoha was not her country of origin. She was warned of the danger childbirth would more than likely cause to her life as a result, but she chose to go through it anyway. For that, Kai is grateful in a way he can never properly say back. 

“She wove the dragon through your name in hopes that it would help you grow up strong.” His dad tells him when Kai is freshly two and learns that this is a world that thrives off violence and bloodshed. “To give you something worthy of Uzushio so no one will doubt that you are for the sea and storms rather than fire.” 

His dad talks about Uzushio often and with great fondness coating each of his words. Kai learns the rolling lilt of her language alongside the language shared amongst the Elemental Nations and Konoha’s own Land of Fire dialect. He learns a lot in such a short time by either watching or with words and guidance in his safe bubble of home and the few parts of the village his dad takes him to while running errands. 

He learns a lot when he is two and traces the tattoos that cover his dad’s arms and shoulders—permanent fuuinjutsu, he’s told, and is given a promise that he will learn once he’s older and has control over his chakra. He learns a lot when he is three and clumsily mimicking his dad’s katas for the first time and the many times that follow—there’s a grace to the movements that remind Kai of flowing water, a steady stream. He learns a lot when he is four and the Academy recruiters come knocking at the door and insist that Kai be enrolled sooner rather than later. 

There is a war raging again, or perhaps the war never really stopped in the first place. Either way, Konoha is desperate for soldiers no matter how young, and Kai shows an innate talent that they want to scoop up and cultivate quickly. He doesn’t consider it talent, just additions from a past life he lived and a lucky roulette of genetics. But the men insist in a way that allows for no argument—they mention how service is owed by a citizen of Konoha in any way they can provide, how it is even more so owed as he is a child of a refugee.

There is no better way of showing their gratitude than serving the village, after all.

They make it sound prettier, throw in words about the Will of Fire, and other sorts of propaganda as if they aren’t begging for children fresh from the cradle as the older generations keep dying on the field. Kai can’t keep track of how many funerals he’s passed, how many mourners dressed in black he sees on the streets every time they go outside. 

Kai knows his dad has no love lost for Konoha, not really. He has too much of Uzushio threaded through his bones and sunk deep into his marrow to pledge complete loyalty to another village. It pains him to bend to their commands, but there is not much he can do by way of resistance. 

“Koharu fought for this place anyway,” He reasons on the morning of Kai’s first day of the Academy. His dad carries him on his hip while they walk through the streets towards their destination. “She fought tooth and nail so the world would be better by the time you attended the Academy. I’m sorry it couldn’t happen, but your papa will keep fighting so you don’t have to, okay?”

“It’s okay.” Kai comforts as best he can. 

His voice is high pitched with childhood in a way that still causes him flinches at times, unrecognizable as it is. He knows he carries a bit of an accent when speaking Konoha’s dialect as well, though that can be blamed on how they exclusively speak Uzushio’s tongue in the company of each other. 

“Just come home safe.” He tacks on and hopes the wish sticks. 

His dad will be joining the war front again; this too was insisted on by the men in shinobi gear that came to their door.

Kai figures it’s a weird norm to allow toddlers free reign of a house. The tradeoffs for teaching them how to kill and normalizing running around with bladed, though blunt, weapons must be a faster maturity and independence rate by hook or by crook. 

“Of course I will, sea star.” A whispered promise.

Kai gets hiked higher and held closer; his dad’s long hair tickles his face and Kai is surrounded by the smell of the sea and a flower he does not yet know the name of. He thinks, in a rare moment of certainty that things will be okay. He will take this life in stride and survive it because he has made a family in a man that loves him to the deepest depths of the ocean and back.

It is a shame, however, that at five Kai learns that it’s best not to make promises during wartime.

* * *

Kai is six when he attends his first funeral, and he knows with a dull sort of clarity that it will not be the last one. 

He cries longer and harder than he thought he would. Having unknowingly and fiercely gotten attached to his new parent in an arguably extremely short time. Later, he will wonder if his speed of attachment to others is a bane rather than a boon. This lifestyle he's been thrust into does not seem to be well suited for many close connections, and Kai learns quickly that he isn't a fan of crying—it's suffocating and gross and makes his eyes and throat hurt. 

It's not even a big funeral given the fact that anyone his dad grew up with were either killed or scattered to the winds after Uzushio fell.

Kai finds it all terribly unfair but even more so is that his dad's body will never make the way back to him, left on the battlefield to rot like many others who are not of a clan. Well, the Tsugumi was a clan when Uzushio still stood, not that matters to Konoha.

All he gets is a pre-formatted letter from the Hokage with empty condolences, a notice that Kai will be registered to receive the orphan stipend, and a promise that he will have access to the rest of his parents' funds once he either makes genin or reaches sixteen, whichever comes first. Standard protocol, he figures. 

Kai has it in his head to rip up the tearstained and snot-soaked letters when a shadow blocks the light of the noonday sun and promptly stops that train of thought. 

He looks up and sees a handsome young woman with hair the same red as the hibiscus flowers his dad tended to and eyes the same shade of violet as the sky at eventide. She’s wearing mourners black and the smile on her face is soft. Kai didn’t see her at the funeral, but then again, he was crying so hard it made seeing anything difficult. 

“Hey, kiddo.” She starts and points to the space next to him. “Mind if I sit?”

Kai shrugs because it isn’t as if he has any say of who does and doesn’t get to sit on a public bench. It’s a nice day anyway, cloudless and summer warm. The monsoon season just ended, after all. 

“I haven’t seen you since you were born.” She hums softly. “You’re Akinari’s daughter, right?”

He reflexively wrinkles his nose and bites the urge to say something rude. If she hasn’t seen him since he was a baby, then she wouldn’t know. While this world may be practically archaic in some ways, it’s surprisingly progressive in others. Then again, he supposes they don’t want to make a fuss about gender norms and the like when it isn’t even a guarantee that kids will make it to their fifteenth birthday at this rate. 

Because he’s a kid and doesn’t carry tissues on him, Kai wipes his nose on the sleeve of his black shirt. “‘m a boy.” He shrugs and starts kicking his feet for a lack of anything better to do. “Kairyuu. Kai’s fine though.” 

“Kaikkun, then.” She says smoothly and grins wider. “I’m Uzumaki Kushina, nice to meet you!”

Kai nods, rattling his brain as to why that name sounds familiar. Then he remembers his dad’s brief lessons about Uzushio and how the name Uzumaki made a frequent enough appearance. They were one of the founder clans, he was told. 

He turns to face her and tilts his head. “You’re from Uzushio?” She must have been young when it fell if she was born there. 

“Uh-huh. That’s how I knew your dad and your mom and you. We weren’t close back home, but I’m guessing you know what happened. Circumstance, ‘ttebane.” Kai watches as she bites her lip and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, nervous for some reason. “I wish I talked to him more before this happened. I’m sorry.”

Kai blinks, interested. “What for?”

“For not being there! Our clans aren’t related, but there are so few of us left.” She lets out a laugh, but it’s short with no mirth behind it. “I think we’re the last in Konoha, ‘ttebane. We should stick together, right Kaikkun? You’re so young too.”

He knows he’s young, with his small hands and stubby legs and chubby face. But he’s heard of kids that graduated younger than he is now and the ones that graduate just a few years older than him and still losing baby teeth. Some don’t even make it back home. He’s young, sure, but to Konoha, he’s old enough.

“I’m in the Academy.” Kai says because he’s not at all sure what she’s getting at. 

Kushina nods, there’s something serious in the shine of her eyes. “I know you are, I figured. So...so, I don’t think you should be living alone, not if you have to.”

“Academy orphans live alone.” Kai has a couple in his class. He doesn’t get why attending school is enough of a basis to give kids housing and tell them to fend for themselves, however. 

“Yeah, but you don’t have to!” She insists and she keeps talking, words a flurry he can barely keep up with. “I mean I know you just met me, and it probably sounds really weird, but how do you feel about living with me? It probably wouldn’t be an official adoption or anything, just a guardianship. We’re practically cousins, ‘ttebane. But I don’t leave the village, so I have free time. The Uzumaki are pretty infamous, so even when I do leave, it’s never even a full day’s journey away. My apartment has a spare room and everything, just say the word and it’s yours!”

It takes him aback, her earnest insistence, and how bright the determination shines in her eyes. How can she be so nice to a kid she’s only met once, he wonders? Then again, they’re both more Uzushio than Konoha and that is a feeling unique only to them. She might be lonely, he thinks; probably worried about losing track of another piece of home. 

Kai doesn’t have to agree, he knows; Kushina will probably figure out where he lives and drop in any way for checkups since she’s so determined anyway.

He thinks of how empty the house is now, how quickly it became empty. He thinks about having to spend the night well and truly alone with no promises that someone will come home the next day or the day after. It’s a terrifying thought. 

it’s an extremely lonely thought. 

Kai realizes very keenly that he thinks he cannot handle being lonely for too long, not here, not this young even if he feels ages older.

So, he nods and sets a deal, “Will you teach me about Uzushio if I do?” He thinks it might make them both happy. 

Kushina grins, bright like the sun and tosses a laugh to the breeze. “Sure, kiddo. I’d be glad to.”

* * *

Moving into Kushina’s apartment barely takes the rest of the day mainly because she tucks everything neatly into storage scrolls in less than a couple hours and even then a majority of that time was spent organizing everything to be properly labeled for later retrieval. For the day, they just focus on setting up Kai in the spare room; it’s usually free of things in case she gets extra visitors, so a spare bed with clean sheets is already waiting for him.

The scrolls containing Kai’s parents’ things are carefully placed in a lacquered box to be tucked under Kai’s new bed for easy reach. He’s allowed to go through them whenever he wants as long as he gives Kushina a heads up so she can help him with the scrolls. They only offer fuuinjutsu as a serious option to those who graduate for a reason, a lot can go wrong with the tiniest mistake and Academy kids are prone to them. 

“Minato’s coming over for dinner tonight.” Kushina says over a late lunch of cup ramen for the both of them. They’ve changed out of their funeral clothes and into comfier things. “And I have to fill out some paperwork about your new situation soon.”

Kai’s nose is still stuffy enough that the food tastes bland but crying made him hungry and it wouldn’t be fair to be picky about it. 

“Who’s Minato?” He’s not really in the mood for meeting other people tonight, either. 

“My boyfriend, bit of a ditz but he’s a sweet guy. He likes showing up for my help with seals and stuff.” She slurps up another helping of ramen and continues. “He also has a team that trails around him like puppies, so they show up pretty often.”

Kai mentally sighs and must pull a face because Kushina starts laughing, nearly spilling her ramen on the couch.

“Sorry, sorry,” She gasps between peals of laughter, finally settling down to something softer. “You don’t have to talk to anyone you don’t want to today, kiddo, or any other day for that matter. I don’t wanna overwhelm you, so think of it as a heads up.”

“But he’ll be here for dinner.” Kai sniffs; he isn’t keen on missing a meal no matter how much he doesn’t want to bother with anyone else. 

“I can deliver your plate to your room, or you can pop in and pop out if you wanna handle your own food. Minato won’t mind; he’s used to the skittish types.”

Kushina’s wording makes him sound like a small animal, but she did call Minato’s team a group of puppies. Maybe it’s a thing of hers—comparing people to animals. He doesn’t mind though and agrees to her terms; whatever allows him with the least amount of time spent on interacting the better. 

However, Kai does end up helping fix dinner once the time rolls around after a quick nap. It’s a good way to get to know Kushina; she talks a lot for one, chatty and easily excitable and doesn’t necessarily run out of things to say. There are pauses at times, though, a little awkward as if their situation catches up with her in the middle of the conversation, but she tries. Kai is thankful for that since she doesn’t have to try at all.

Plus, all her talking means that he doesn’t have to say a whole lot—just listen while he sits on the counter and try his best to mold onigiri with his annoyingly tiny hands. A lot of the ones he makes come out lumpy, but Kushina says it adds character and is very proud of the end result. 

She ends up making yaki udon and mutters about having to go grocery shopping again soon and something kids practically eating her out of house and home—the puppies, probably. 

Just a few minutes before the food is set to be done, there’s a knock at the door. Kushina scurries to answer it with a small smile on her face, and Kai is too busy making sure the food doesn’t burn while she greets her boyfriend. Kai probably isn’t even allowed to touch the stove given the fact that he can’t even reach it without a stool. Shame, he vaguely remembers enjoying cooking once upon a time. 

“Kaikkun,” Kushina’s voice cuts over the sizzle-pop of the food and her head pokes around the corner into the kitchen. “Would you like to meet Minato or not?”

Kai does not think very long before deciding, no he doesn’t want to see anyone else. He doesn’t want to risk accidentally crying in front of a stranger and making the whole meeting awkward; he feels like crying now, but it’s valiantly held back by a few blinks and eye rub that he hopes is interpreted as sleepiness instead. He just doesn’t know if the urge is from leftover grief or because Kushina continues to be so nice and accommodating despite barely knowing him. 

She gives him a simple nod in return and ducks back around the corner. Kai can hear voices, but they’re speaking a bit too low for him to discern what they’re saying. Not that matters for long because Kushina pops back into the kitchen and gives Kai’s head of fluffy curls a quick ruffle before fixing a plate of food. 

Once that’s done, she leads him to his new room while carrying his food, setting it down at the little table so he can eat. 

“Feel free to leave your dishes outside the door when you’re finished.” She says, softly patting Kai’s head a few more times before retracting her hand with a warm smile. “If you need me for absolutely anything, I’ll be just in the living room or you can call for me, okay?”

Kai nods and shoves food in his mouth instead of verbally replying, worried that his voice might be thick with emotions. Kushina takes it as a good enough answer and exits the room. 

He eats the food methodically, bit by bit. It’s good and home-cooked and a little too crispy in some places, but Kai doesn’t care. It’s more than he thought would be possible. Just this morning, he was thinking about how the premade meals his dad made him before he left had run out two days prior and the fridge stood empty after he scraped together meals with whatever was leftover between the panic attacks that happened after hearing his dad had died on a mission. Kai wasn’t expecting anything today besides an empty house and empty beds and empty promises that he should have known better than to have made. People die, he’s not even special in that regard; he’s not the first orphan of the war and he won’t be the last, but he’s different now in little ways.

Different because Kushina heard that he’d be alone now and swooped in as soon as she could with nervous-bright words and promises so sincere that Kai can’t help but believe them. It’s different now, because Kushina rarely leaves the village, so the war can’t touch her that way, and isn’t that rare for someone who isn’t a civilian or a shinobi too injured to continue the fight?

Maybe attachments are truly dangerous, but perhaps this will be fine—perhaps Kai will live this life and turn out fine. 

. .

_i know history. there are many names in history_  
_but none of them are ours._

richard siken

. .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm using [this timeline](https://keepyourpantsongohan.tumblr.com/post/170439568877/timeline-of-naruto-universe) as a basis to springboard off of. with some personal adjustments along the way since the canon timeline is bad anyway!! that means kai and shisui are a year older than yamato/tenzou and iruka because why not. it also puts kushina at newly 18 when she meets kai, for reference.
> 
> i was not actually expecting kai to cry so much, but then i starting thinking about the abruptness of death and tragedy and how he was looking forward to learning so many things and being happy despite how scary this new place is. hence the tears and overall emotional shock. mature toddlers are normal in konoha; i think kushina is glad to see her new kid cry. it's healthy even if it gets a little gross. like if minato can adopt a traumatized five year old, then why can't kushina???
> 
> anyways, kai is a good kid; he'll get somewhere one of these days. i hope you guys enjoy the first chapter and thank you so much for reading this far!! please tell me what you think if you have the time; comments are nice, they keep me going!!!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> second chapters are strange beasts for me for some reason. oh well, back at it again.

. .

Kai settles in fairly nicely in the short time that he’s under Kushina’s care; it helps that she's nice and accommodating and knows when not to push if a conversation veers into tearful territory. Even then, she has a decent grasp of how to provide comfort already.

Much to his chagrin, Kai has already cried in front of his new caretaker once when he accidentally spilled grape juice all over her clean floor. Frustration from the simple mistake and sleep deprivation from grief was a terrible combination at the time, but Kushina didn’t mind the mess from the tears or the mess in her home, didn’t raise her voice past a softly spoken question asked when she came to investigate the fuss.

In response, Kushina was quick to scoop the child up in her strong arms and spirit him away to the couch and wrap him in blankets. The radio playing tinny love songs about wishing a lover back from war while she cleaned up the mess and showed up a few minutes later with steaming cups of hot chocolate to drink despite the early August heat. _Chocolate is a magic cure-all besides ramen_ , she had claimed with a wink and a soft smile before handing the pawprint designed mug over.

Neither of them said a word while sipping at their drinks, and Kai was thankful for that because he cried silently until there was no hot chocolate left in his cup. When he finished, Kushina had scrubbed gently at his face with a cool, damp washcloth and insisted he drink a small cup of water and then take a nap because crying is tiring and serious business. Kai would never object to an offered naptime and did so, lulled to sleep by the sound of the radio’s soft music and the smell of coconut oil clinging to Kushina’s hair. 

So, whenever his new guardian speaks, Kai makes sure to listen attentively as he can because it’s the least she deserves at this point. Even when she prattles on about fuuinjutsu seals that are far above his level right now and the simple idea of matrices and balancing gives him a headache. Luckily, it's breakfast, so Kushina's conversation topics are easier to follow as they eat their eggs and rice.

"Did your dad ever bring up our memorial traditions with you?" She asks carefully after finishing up a conversation about favorite fruits in which Kushina learns about Kai’s love for mangoes and peaches, and Kai learns that Kushina adores kiwis and strawberries.

In the past few days, Kushina has always been careful about bringing up Kai's dad. After all, the wound is still fresh and barely congealed. She knows how to navigate a minefield of grief and loss well—well enough to make him wonder if she has experience comforting others in similar situations.

Kai shakes his head to her question, mouth too full of eggs to properly answer. They might have done something similar for his mom, but Kai doesn't remember it. Babyhood was a vague awareness at best and now six years behind him, besides.

"Well," Kushina starts and then stops to shovel the rest of her food in her mouth. It's amazing how quickly she can put away a meal.

"In Uzushio we did a couple of things. It differed a bit from clan to clan, but it was relatively the same overall." She continues. "We mainly used pyres and the ashes would either be kept or scattered to the winds or over the ocean right before the eddies where the water is deep enough. And for people who couldn’t make their way back home, we’d float paper lanterns down the river to the sea.”

Kai wonders how many lanterns Kushina sent off to sea, how many his dad sent as well. Did it happen all at once or did it take a matter of days to accomplish? An entire village had died. He doesn’t ask, too worried about the answer.

“Can...can I do a lantern tonight, two maybe? For my dad and mom?” He wonders instead. It seems like a nice thing to do—the proper thing to do even if Kai may never step foot on Uzushio himself.

Kushina smiles and nods. “Sure thing, kiddo. You go back to the Academy tomorrow, right? Tonight’ll be perfect. We just don’t do the lanterns though; we also have the items for remembrance. They’re crafted from things that come from the earth, the closer to the sea the better. Using sea glass or seashells was the most popular, but I knew a lot of people that carved stuff from either whalebone or driftwood. Hair’s important, so wearing a token of the departed was a common choice.”

Kai remembers the soft clatter of glass that would follow his dad around—sea glass crafted accessories held in place with wire all neatly woven into the pearl pale of his hair. Kai thought it was prettiest when the setting sun hit him, lighting him in a halo of colors.

It makes him wonder what Kushina does for her version of remembrance, or if she even chooses to wear anything at all. Are they neatly tucked under her clothes or hidden in the red waterfall of her hair or maybe they’re displayed in a special spot in her room? No chiming sounds follow her as a hint; then again, Kai’s dad was good at moving silently as well, unless he wanted others to hear him. A mark of a good shinobi, if Kai’s ever known one.

“I don’t know how to make anything.” Kai can’t help his furrowed brows; this is a dilemma in the making. “There isn’t a rush, is there?”

“Crafting anything can be finicky work, ‘ttebane, so there isn’t an immediate rush. I’ll teach you how to fix up whatever you want since it takes a lot of fine motor control you probably don’t have just yet. It’s something the kids learn from the older folks, anyway.”

Children shouldn’t mourn this young or alone, Kai figures that’s what she means even if it isn’t exactly said. A family is important to have, a community is important to have, especially for grief—especially for children grieving. He tries not to think about the orphans alone in their grief and empty houses and crowded orphanages. But it’s wartime and not everyone is as kind as Kushina, willing to take care of a child with the barest thread of connection to her.

How lucky, Kai must be, how favored he is in ways he may not ever be able to properly articulate.

* * *

They head out just before lunch, taking what’s considered the civilian way through the village—walking rather than roof hopping. Not that Kai minds the scenic route Kushina leads them on since it makes it easier to start learning the layout of the village. Large and sprawling as it is, Kai knows he'll have to figure it all out eventually since he assumes walking is the only mode of transportation.

At least Kushina's apartment is in a convenient place: not too far from the Hokage Tower and thus fairly close to Konoha's main market square where she does most of her shopping. It takes all of fifteen minutes to get there properly, and in those fifteen minutes, Kai keeps a firm grip on Kushina’s hand, worried about getting separated.

The marketplace is bustling by the time they get there: an influx of smells and a cacophony of sounds from the savory scents clinging to food stalls to the sounds of shrieking children weaving between legs and underfoot. Here, amidst the regular Konoha summer day, it’s hard to tell there’s a war right outside the towering walls of the village.

People that recognize Kushina shout the woman’s name over the noise, and she returns each greeting; her smile blinding bright against the brown of her skin and friendly waves handing out with enthusiastic ease. She keeps them on track, however, a comforting and guiding hand on Kai’s shoulder leading the boy this way and that. There’s other shopping to do, after all, having listened to his caretaker bemoan her dwindling ingredients for the past couple days and how she should have stocked up before taking Kai in. The baskets they took with them are quick to be laden full of goods: fresh fruit and vegetables and meats and loaves of bread. What can’t fit, Kushina packs away in storage scrolls designed specifically for carrying groceries that she allows Kai to tuck into the pocket of his shorts.

By the time they’re ready to head to the shop that sells the lanterns, the peak hour for lunch has passed, but the sun is still merciless with her heat. Kai sips on a cup of fresh-squeezed juice Kushina foisted onto him while they sit and contemplate on what to eat for lunch before finishing up for the day.

However, Kushina pauses mid-conversation, eyes squinting against the sunlight before she waves a hand, inviting whoever she’s seen over to them. A woman in a blue summer yukata so dark it looks black steps from the crowd—clutching at her hand is a familiar boy and swaddled against her chest is a bundle that Kai can only assume is a baby.

“Kushina-chan?” The woman wonders, her voice a clear cut over the noise of the market bustle.

Once her suspicions are confirmed, the woman detaches herself from the flow of the crowd. Images of white flowers are trailing on the sleeves and the bottom of her yukata and her obi is a soft silver. She’s a study in opposites of Kushina: lily pale skin and dark hair and dark eyes and composed grace in comparison to all the activity around them.

Kai feels oddly intimidated as she makes her way over for some reason.

“It’s good to see you, Kushina-chan,” The woman smiles, her expression soft with familiarity. She switches her attention to Kai, offering him a brief curious look before smiling in his direction as well. “And who is this, little one?”

He wishes he could sink farther in his seat; the next best option is ducking half his face back in his cup and pretending the heat of the sun is what’s making his cheeks feel hot.

“This is Kairyuu!” Kushina answers, ruffling a copper brown hand through Kai’s hair as she does so. “Tsugumi’s boy. I mentioned him last time we talked, yeah?”

“You did, I remember. Shisui-kun also mentioned you a few times as well.” Her gaze shifts between the two children. “You both are in the same class, right?”

They are, even if Kai’s advancement through the Academy feels more akin to cheating than anything else. He isn’t looking to graduate soon as it stands, but that didn’t stop them from pushing him into a class with older children when he zoomed through the entry-level material in a matter of days.

“Kai’s smart.” Shisui answers as if it explains anything, his cheeks dimpled from his smile. “Smarter than me, even!”

“‘m not, really.” Kai mumbles into his juice cup, ignoring the weight of three gazes on him.

He just finds it easy to address the theories and hypotheticals the lessons posit which makes zooming through worksheets easy, but that doesn’t mean much in the long run if he can’t put what’s on paper into practice properly. He’s okay with target practice and nimble enough to win some spars that way, but chakra and ninjutsu are different beasts entirely. Honestly, he should probably ask Kushina if chakra being itchy under his skin is normal since it makes doing anything feel like more trouble than it’s worth.

“He’s a little shy,” Kushina faux whispers before returning to a normal volume. “I’m surprised to see you out, Miko-chan. Kaikkun and I were just about to head to lunch.”

“Fresh air will do Itachi-chan some good, and I was getting tired of being fussed over at the compound for so long. I was pregnant, I have a baby. I’m not injured.”

“Well, Fugaku is a fuddy-duddy anyway, and the little potato is his first kid. He’s probably extra worried.”

“Please don’t call your godson a potato; you might give him a complex when he gets older.” Despite the mild scolding, she doesn’t sound bothered. “You said lunch?”

Kushina nods and hums, “Ichiraku’s! Kaikkun hasn’t tried it yet, so we need to fix that immediately, 'ttebane. Wanna join us? You too, little Uchiha.”

“I do have to head home soon. I’m lucky Itachi-chan slept through all of this for so long, but he’s bound to wake up at any minute and start fussing. Shisui-kun, did you want to go with Kushina-chan and your classmate?”

“Fugaku-sama said I had to watch you though.” Shisui protests as seriously as a nearly six-year-old missing one of his front teeth can be serious.

Kai was there when he lost that tooth, too; sitting right next to him and bored with the lesson when he suddenly looked over to see Shisui pluck the tooth right out of his mouth without flinching. It was probably already very loose and well on its way to falling out, but the point still stands. For all his springy curls and dimpled cheeks and long lashes, Shisui is a weird kid, even by Uchiha standards, Kai thinks. 

“I’m in the village, Shisui-kun.” She reasons slowly. “There is no place safer for me than here besides the compound, besides my own home. Plus,” She smiles sweetly, pinching softly at the boy’s cheek, enough to make him squeal a start of laughter. “You’ve done such a wonderful job of protecting your oba-sama all day. You deserve a bit of a break before training later.”

“Will you let me practice my shunshin? I almost got the landing perfect.”

“After you practice with the tantou and not in my backyard. You startled the koi something fierce when you landed in the pond yesterday and nearly tore up my garden.”

“Sorry, Mikoto-obasama.” Shisui says dutifully, at least having the decency to look scolded and a little embarrassed. Not that the expression lasts long with how quickly he turns his attention onto Kai, dark eyes imploring. “Kai, can I have lunch with you?”

Kai blinks once, twice, taken off guard as to why he’s being asked and not Kushina since he assumes that they’re eating off her money. He shrugs slightly, ignoring Kushina’s highly amused _I’m going too_ and the vague view of Mikoto daintily covering her mouth with a hand. Adults always think kids are funny for some reason or another. 

“Sure?” He finally takes his face out of his cup and answers since he doesn’t care either way.

Shisui’s nice though, even if Kai isn’t sure where they stand. Probably not friends, he thinks, just two kids brought together by happenstance and luck. They zoomed through the same first-year class and landed in the same one with older kids, so it’s easier to stick together when they have to. The Uchiha had initially flocked to Kai after stating something about being the same age and also how cool it was to see someone with hair just as curly as his even if it feels different since curls are apparently a rare commodity in Konoha.

There is a group of older Uchihas in the same class as them that always tend to look out for Shisui anyway, so he usually sticks to them when he isn’t bored. Kai doesn’t have anyone to fall back on and is a clanless kid, besides. He has to endure the brunt of teasing and jealous stares and getting called baby names for being the smallest in class and being smarter than most of them in there. No one messes with an Uchiha especially when other Uchiha are around, it seems.

He’s probably just being extra polite since the adults are around. Shisui looks happy—all summer bright smiles and dimpled cheeks—despite Kai's lack of returned enthusiasm when he answered.

Satisfied with the turn of events, Mikoto separates from their group with a small wave and an insistence that Kai visit her one day; she’d be happy to serve him sweets and tea. Kushina suggests babysitting duty that Kai actually doesn’t mind the idea of; he has a vague recollection of tending to younger kids at some point—either siblings or just for work, he isn’t sure. He has a good few years before Itachi picks up a pointed weapon, hopefully. Clans always tend to operate on a different wavelength at times.

Kushina leads their now three-person group through the streets, both boys gripping onto one of her hands. Shisui chatters about his practice with the shunshin and anything else that crosses his mind, eating up any advice Kushina gives him since she is a jounin with more than enough experience under her belt. Kai worries that the boy will take her advice right then and there, but apparently, the promise of food and a rule to not practice in public places until he’s positive he won’t cause an accident is enough of a deterrent to keep him rooted to the ground. 

The ramen stand doesn’t take long to reach either way; Kushina lifts the boys under her arms once it comes into view and dumps them gently on the stools to cut time on their journey. She greets the stand owner and his wife with a familiarity that speaks of years of visiting and introduces Kai as her baby cousin and Shisui as Mikoto’s nephew.

They sit with Kai in the middle and get served tea and fresh dango as Kushina rattles off the menu that she knows by heart, even throwing in a few off the menu items and a few new things that have cropped up in the past month or so. Apparently, the ongoing war means some improvising and liberties need to be taken, especially with the seafood based dishes given that it’s getting a bit too dangerous and expensive to request their regular imports. 

Kushina ends up ordering something that sounds complicated and must be a special menu item; Shisui rattles on about getting something spicy enough to burn his tongue; and Kai, a little overwhelmed with the whole process already, settles on the first thing he remembers hearing which ends up being shoyu.

It’s a great meal even if his order was a little impulsive; Kai takes his time eating and valiantly tries not to quail under the number of bowls Kushina is putting away so fast. While the woman catches up with the stall owners between bites, that leaves the kids to their own devices.

“You weren’t at school for two days before the weekend started.” Shisui states, proving that he pays more attention than Kai might have originally given him credit for. His feet make soft tap-taps when they hit the stool as he swings them back and forth. “Did something happen?”

Two days, everyone knows, is the allotted time allowed to tend to family emergencies without penalties. After all, the Academy is for bright and potential shinobi, and they are in the middle of a war. Grieving is something they don’t want to waste too long a time on, apparently. Perhaps it’s just another way to train them for the field: deal with the grief quickly or tamp it down.

“My dad didn’t make it back.” Kai says quietly, mainly because he doesn’t want the somber conversation topic to reach the adults.

“I’m sorry.” Shisui says and his words don’t feel like empty condolences, nowhere near the same the apologies written in the letters Kai threw away before emptying the house.

“Is that why Kushina-san is with you now?”

“Mhm, she’s from Uzushio, so she thought it’d be best to take me in. We’re similar even if we aren’t from the same clan.”

“That’s great, Kai! She’s smart so she’ll teach you a lot, yeah? Definitely more than they teach at the Academy.”

“She already taught me about lantern boats. That’s why we’re out actually; we’re gonna float some for my dad and mom tonight.”

“Oh, the Uchiha do lanterns sometimes too, ‘cept we float them in the sky.” Shisui tilts his head, speaking around the noodles in this mouth. “Maybe I shouldn’t have told you that. I’m not sure how much of a clan secret it is.”

He doesn’t think it’s that big of a secret anyway; Kai’s seen them through the windows at times: firelit lanterns floating up to the sky from about where the Uchiha compound is located near the middle of the village where the river cuts through. Sometimes he just spots one; one night he counted twelve before drifting off to sleep. What a sad thought.

“Thanks for telling me.” He says anyway. It seems like the polite way to approach learning something about a clan even if it might have been an accident.

Shisui, smiles, laughs; they turn the topic to lighter things, childish things.

* * *

The trio had spent longer at Ichiraku’s than anticipated, and after that, they had walked around the market more to see if the merchants had brought pretty wares despite the war. There were lovely things scattered about: hair accessories and jewelry and rich fabrics and spices. Not that they bought anything today for a variety of reasons. They had parted ways with Shisui just before the sun started setting with Kai having to promise to see at the Academy tomorrow.

By the time they’re crouched at an empty section of the riverbank with the lantern boats next to Kai, the sun is finally setting. Konoha’s street lanterns are steadily being lit either by careful hands or a precise katon or an Uzushio original seal that works based on sunlight.

Kushina’s skin glows amber warm and her hair is a fiery halo in the dying light. She is somber in a way that Kai hasn’t seen yet that is so different from the boisterous energy she approached the day with. Then again, they are still new to each other’s company and they are getting ready to perform a funeral rite.

“Like most rivers, the Naka will eventually lead to the sea. That’s the important part.” Kushina starts to explain gently.

“Will someone stop them?” Kai can’t help but question, concerned.

He doesn’t know how religious he is but there’s something sacred about this. He wants this to go well, for it to go right. It’s the least he can do for his father and mother who had loved him as soon as they laid eyes on him.

“They’ll be fine.” She assures, and Kai feels tension uncoil from his shoulders. “People know not to mess with the white lanterns they see.”

Kai nods, resisting the urge to dig his fingers into the muddy dirt. He doesn’t want to make a mess before sending them off.

“Alright, kiddo.” Her tone turns a bit lighter, but her expression still seems a bit sad as she hands over a box of matches that she just bought. “You light the lanterns, and I’ll say the prayer. I’ll teach it to you one day too.”

Hopefully, he won’t have to use it anytime soon after he does learn it. As of now, it’s enough to hear the words fall from Kushina’s lips; he catches some parts he understands: _sea_ and _gods_ and either _goodbye_ or _departure_. Uzushio’s language is smooth as water over river stones coming from her, melodic enough that Kai almost gets lulled by the sound of it. He should ask if she’d be willing to teach him more of it; his lessons and practice fell to the wayside when his father was sent back on active duty and Kai started going to the Academy.

An idea for later, he settles on, and lights the lanterns just as he’s supposed to, the flickering fire turning them nearly orange. When Kushina ends the prayer with three solid claps, Kai pushes the boats off the bank into the water. Luckily, the current’s flowing smooth and steady enough that he doesn't have to wade and make sure they start moving properly. A good omen, Kushina said it would be if that was the case.

The two watch the steady bobbing lights float on down the river until they can’t be seen anymore, and the sun has practically set completely.

Kushina places an arm around Kai’s shoulder; her presence is warm and solid and so familiar already. If he wasn’t crying already, he would probably start crying from the simple comfort of having around. 

“You’re gonna make them proud.” Her voice is soft as a promise and feels as sacred as the prayers she just recited.

He wants to believe her more than anything, more than anything he could ever put a name to.

. .

_tristitiam et metus tradam in mare. i will consign sadness and fear to the sea._

— Anne Carson

. .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *glances at canon and push it over the ledge of a counter much like a cat would do a glass because i am self-indulgent and this is my city now*
> 
> kushina and mikoto should get cool times to shine even if it's in kai's tiny bubble and thinking they're very rad and very pretty because they are very beautiful and strong and also intimidating sometimes. i love that for them...i love them.
> 
> i also love baby/pre-genin!shisui (he is still 5 almost 6 in this chapter) who just wants to do cool things with people he likes and he's so sweet and nice and looks like a little angel and if you hold his hand he will immediately start swinging them back and forth!! also, they probably aren't going to get diagnosed bc ninjas and stuff but i headcanon shisui with adhd (and i can go on a semi-long spiel about how that translated into early graduation & how that probably wouldn't have panned out so well for him outside of wartime) and kai has it as well.
> 
> they are all good kids. i hope you enjoy them! also i made [fanfic tumblr](https://petalfics.tumblr.com/) that's bare bones because i havent used the site in years, but i'll try to use it reliably!!!


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